The Feeling Is Mutual
by Ashton Parker
Summary: Hermione loves Harry. Harry loves Hermione. The problem? They don't realize the feelings are mutual. What will happen when they do? R/R!


Disclaimer: What's the point of disclaimers? They're seriously stupid. I mean. Come on. Everyone obviously knows you're not J.K. Rowling. If you were J.K. Rowling, would you be writing stories for ff.net? Uh. . .no.  
  
A/N: Lately, no one has been reviewing my stories (this is why I deleted them). This kind of bums me out. So, even if you hated it, PLEASE leave a review! They're my only incentive for writing and updating!  
  
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Chapter One  
  
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Crushing dried beetles was dull work.  
  
How were you supposed to create a sufficient Swelling Solution with him around? It's not that she minded. No, not at all. She was quite happy Harry was sitting right next to her. But, the truth was, her grades were slipping horribly.  
  
Was it her fault his tousled, midnight hair smelled so good?  
  
Was it her fault his eyes, set with emeralds, gleamed and twinkled when he smiled at her?  
  
Was it her fault his breath smelled of sweet cinnamon and his black sweaters smelled of cologne?  
  
How was she supposed to keep her mind off of him?! She couldn't help but notice the tingle, the rush when their legs brushed up against one another underneath the table. Thoughts of Harry ran through her mind all day, thoughts of kissing him, and thoughts that seemed oh-so-real of doing more than just kissing Harry kept playing about her brain constantly. How was she supposed to work?  
  
She couldn't, and that was that.  
  
"Exactly," she thought. "I can't, and that's that. I simply can't get Harry, and that's all there is to it. I need to stop thinking about him."  
  
***  
  
There she was. Sitting right next to him.  
  
"Why don't I just ravish her right here, right now?" he thought. "She's right here. Her soft, brown hair and tawny eyes, her cheerful disposition, and - DAMN - how DID she smell so good? Why don't I just TELL HER?"  
  
He couldn't even tell Ron. Ron would laugh in his face.  
  
And Ron has morning breath.  
  
So he can't tell Ron, and he can't tell Sirius, and he can't tell Dumbledore, and he certainly can't tell Hermione.  
  
He couldn't tell anyone.  
  
And, worst of all, his pants weren't baggy enough.  
  
Do you think she looks there. . .?  
  
***  
  
"Hey Hermione," said Harry. His voice sounded huskier than usual. Sexier.  
  
She grinned sheepishly. "Hey," she said in a small voice.  
  
"I'm sure those lips are better for more than just smiling. I bet you're tongue's better for than just talking. I bet. . .well, let's leave that for now. Before we go on, how about we test my theory?"  
  
Hermione's heart jumped. "Sure thing, sexy." Did she just say that?!  
  
Their awaiting lips met at last. His warm, thin lips warmed Hermione's cool, smooth ones and Harry's tongue slid in her mouth.  
  
Their tongues danced a lovers' dance, like two goldfish chasing around in a bowl, like intertwining snakes enchanted by their charmer. Hermione let out a low moan.  
  
"Hermione!" said Ron's voice. He sounded distant. "Hermione!!!" he shouted, a little more urgently. "Hermione, wake up!"  
  
Hermione's eyes flickered open. She was staring into Ron's face. Her eyes slid in and out of focus. She wiped her eyes.  
  
"Hermione," Ron whispered. "You fell asleep."  
  
She looked around. Sure enough, she sat in a burgundy lounge chair, her homework spread over the table. Her ink well was open and a quill was laying on a blank piece of parchment.  
  
"Huh?" she said, still a little confused.  
  
"Hermione, we need to talk to you," said Harry. Her eyes flew around to meet Harry's.  
  
"Uh. . .sure."  
  
Of course. How could she have ever talked like that? It was too good to be true. It had all been a dream.  
  
"Hermione," said Harry, placing a hand on her hand. "We're worried. You just fell asleep, and you were. . .well. . ." He broke off.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You were moaning," Ron finished, embarrassedly.  
  
Of course. She knew she had sounded to suave. Of course it was only a dream. It had only been a dream. But what was she going to say? She couldn't tell the truth!  
  
"I. . .I. . .I, um, I had a dream. I was. . .I was at. . .the dentist! Yeah."  
  
Though hardly convincing as this was, both boys accepted it, to Hermione's surprise.  
  
"I think I'm going to do my homework upstairs if no one has any objections. I'm tired."  
  
She marched up the stairs. "Goodnight!"  
  
How did one stop thinking about Harry Potter?  
  
A/N: Please tell me you liked it! :-D  
  
*~Ashton~* 


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